


you should see him when he shines

by restitched (beingothrwrldly)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Australia, M/M, New Year's Eve, Surfing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-05 15:16:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3124934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beingothrwrldly/pseuds/restitched
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“We should go on a trip.” Louis straightens up in his chair, fiddles with the drawstring on his hoodie. Niall feels caught in a cyclone. “You and me.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You and me!” Niall says. “No way.”</i>
</p>
<p>Or, Louis and Niall go to a music and arts festival in Australia for New Year's, and also surfing and feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you should see him when he shines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [janesgravity (janescott)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/janescott/gifts).



> For Jane! You gave some really amazing prompts and I spent days trying to decide on one before I finally chose Louis/Niall. I really really hope you like this!! 
> 
> Huge huge thank you to Cass, Erin and Ash for the beta and cheerleading and plot seed planting, and to Mich for the beta and britpick. You are all the greatest! Any remaining mistakes are all mine, and the title comes from Who You Love by John Mayer. 
> 
> Finally, if you're Niall or Louis or any of their friends/family/acquaintances, please go away. You've already done enough to ruin my life, I don't need you reading my fic on top of everything else.

Niall quits One Direction at four-fifteen on a Sunday afternoon.

Well. It’s not so much that he _quits_ , more that he’s on the phone with his cousin and says, “No, I told Liam, if he doesn’t want to it doesn’t really matter, but I’m quitting anyway,” because he’s _going_ to quit smoking for the new year, dammit. Problem is, he says it just as he passes a group of girls who recognize him, even though he’s wearing shades and a snapback and he’s walking really fast. He crosses the street, cuts down a side street and then another until he’s sure he’s lost them, and that’s that. Just another day.

He goes home and makes dinner, plays FIFA for a few hours and wakes up at sunrise with a crick in his neck and his foot asleep. He checks his phone as he’s stumbling to bed and he’s got messages from everyone under the sun asking if he’s alright and is he having an existential crisis and does he need to talk? It’s all over Twitter that he’s left the band and he’s got no idea where it came from until he hears himself say, “but I’m quitting anyway,” and it echoes over and over in his head like a broken record.

He _should_ tweet something. He _should_ call management. There’re loads of things he _should_ do but he just doesn’t have the energy, so he doesn’t. 

He’s exhausted.

 

Niall wakes up twelve hours later to even more messages from even more people but he opens a string from Louis first. They start with _were you going to tell us or……._ and then _will you have a giant rummage sale for all your memorabilia ??_ and _I’d like dibs on your liam doll please_ and finally ends with _why are my keys in the fridge ?_

Niall rolls onto his back and ignores most everything and just says, _you said ‘this is gona really confuse me tomorrow’_. He sends it, and then he adds, _apparently drunk you plays pranks on hungover you . hahaha !_ He says that but he doesn’t actually laugh, really. Then he says, _wait you havnt used your keys in three days ??_

The ellipses appear almost immediately. _fuck this explains so much. Are you busy this afternoon or can you sneak out for a bit ?_

_nah,_ Niall texts back, _i’m free for days mate :)_. It’s a relief, the wide-open freedom stretching out in front of them. They’ve got one commitment before 2015, and it’s been prerecorded for weeks; Niall feels like an overachiever. His phone rings. “Too early for autocorrect,” Louis says before Niall can even say hello. His voice is rough, scratchy, and Niall swallows hard and winces. “Shall we grab a bit of tea, then?”

Niall meets him at this little shop they go to sometimes – it’s off the beaten path and they never make much of a big deal when he and Louis come in. Niall wears a snapback anyway and when he gets there, Louis is wearing sunglasses inside and has his hands curled around a cup of tea. Niall grins and walks over, sits down across from him without saying a word, takes the cup and sips it before grimacing. Disgusting. “Disgusting,” he mutters, turning his hat backwards and leaning back in his chair.

“It’s the same as it always is, Niall,” Louis says, exhaustedly. “If you don’t like tea, don’t steal my tea.”

“Everybody wanna steal my tea,” Niall sings softly. “I don’t even like tea, you keep dragging me here.”

“These are our _stomping_ grounds, mate,” Louis says. “Honestly.”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Honestly,” he echoes. “So.” It’s not a question, really, but he hopes Louis takes it wrong and offers an answer; he waits.

Louis takes his sunglasses off and sets them on the table. “So,” he says. A long pause; Niall waits. “I’m worried about you, Niall,” he says seriously. “You seem…”

“It wasn’t even like that,” Niall says. “Come on.”

“Aren’t you concerned about burning bridges?” Louis is very serious; if Niall didn’t know any better he’d think Louis was seriously worried. “Is this why you never got that screw tattoo?”

Niall makes a face. “You’re being insane,” he says, but his voice is a little uneasy and there’s this weird split second where he’s not sure they’re joking anymore, and it feels weird. It all just feels weird. He looks down and presses a thumb to the tabletop, digs his thumbnail into the wood. “I mean.”

“El broke things off in August,” Louis says suddenly. His voice has gone soft and when Niall looks up there’s melancholy in his eyes. “For good. I suppose August was a bit of a rough month.”

Niall isn’t really sure what to say so he says nothing, watches Louis carefully because he’s had no idea. No idea. “Maybe it’s not for good,” he starts, but Louis is already shaking his head.

“No, it’s for good,” he says. “She's got a boyfriend. I’ve seen on Facebook, heard from people. It’s for good. For the best, really,” he shrugs, and there’s a huge impenetrable wall between them all of a sudden. “Good for her.”

“Nah, stop,” Niall says. “Don’t do that.”

“We should go on a trip.” Louis straightens up in his chair, fiddles with the drawstring on his hoodie. Niall feels caught in a cyclone. “You and me.”

“You and me!” Niall says. “No way.”

“First of all,” Louis leans forward and jabs a finger at him, “it’s bloody _miserable_ here. Rain! Snow! I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be warm.”

“I’m not going on a trip!” Niall says. “We’ve been on the fuckin’ road for a _year_!”

Louis shakes his head slowly. “Watch your filthy mouth,” he says. “Second of all, you’ve just quit your job.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Niall says, “that’s not _true_.” But Louis is just shaking his head, watching Niall with these disgusting, mournful eyes. Niall hates him.

"That’s your whole argument, then?” Niall asks. “You want to warm up, I’ve got a fireplace. We’ll watch telly for a week, play FIFA, order food. Won’t leave the house at all.”

Now Louis makes a face." _You're_ fucking crazy, I’m not holing up in your house with you. That's not exotic. That’s _boring._ ”

“Watch your filthy mouth,” Niall says, mocking him, and Louis flips him off and pulls his sleeves over his hands. “Fine. Let’s go, then.” He’s joking, mostly, but the more he thinks about it, the better it sounds to get away for a while. 

Louis crosses his arms over his chest and narrows his eyes. “Yeah, alright,” he says. “What, just like that?”

“Mmhmm.” Niall nods. “Where?”

Louis hesitates for a split second like he’s waiting for Niall to call his bluff, but then he just shrugs. “I…” he starts, but trails off. “Haven’t really thought much about _where_ , I just want to get out of here for a bit. I’ve already been back too long. Nothing good’s on the telly, X Factor’s done, I’m bored.”

“You’re impossible,” Niall says, shaking his head. “You’ve thought of where, tell me.”

“What on _earth_ d’you have to do that’s better than going on a vacation with me?” Louis asks. It’s beginning to get heated; Niall hears a robotic voice in the back of his head say _Abort! Abort! Abort!_ but he ignores it. Probably for the best? Probably. “Think of it, Niall. No more boots, no more gloves, no more jumpers.”

“You’re wearing _so many_ shirts right now,” Niall says. “D'you even know how to feel warmth? Can you give up jumpers to go on a vacation someplace hot?”

“I just told you I’ve _forgotten_ ,” Louis hisses back. “Niall. Think of the fun we could have.” He leans forward, a grin quirking the corners of his mouth. He looks a bit like an evil mastermind, Niall thinks. “Think of the selfies, Niall.”

“Fuck you, there’s more to my life than selfies,” Niall says, a little uncertain. A vacation with Louis does sound like fun. Plus, he’s thinking of the selfies, if he’s being completely honest. “Where to?”

“Well,” Louis says, and Niall knows in that moment that Louis’s been thinking about this. “Liam was supposed to go to this festival with me over New Year’s, but he’s decided to spend the time with Sophia instead.” Louis sighs, shakes his head. “Ditched for the girlfriend.”

“The nerve,” Niall says. “Where’s the festival?”

“Australia,” Louis says. Niall watches as he mulls it over. “I’ve had these tickets for ages, they’re quite hard to get. It’d be a shame for them to go to waste. And it’s quite nice in December, Australia. Lots of sun, surfing.”

“A surfing festival, no.” Niall shakes his head, says, “I am not surfing.”

Louis laughs and says, “Not a surfing festival, Niall, a _music_ festival. But I’m going to teach you to surf. Get a waterproof camera, I want selfies on a surfboard.” The wall he’d put up is crumbling quickly and there’s a sparkle in his eyes, his smile more genuine. Maybe this is all they need, to really just get away for a bit. 

“You can stand up on your surfboard,” Niall says, takes Louis’s tea again, “and I’ll stand on the beach and get you in the background.” He takes another sip and grimaces. “And it’ll be the best selfie ever, I’ll try to capture that one microsecond that you’re up on your board before you fall over.”

“The best selfie ever,” Louis sings, mischief shining bright in his eyes now. Yes, Niall thinks, this will be good, for them to get away for a bit.

 

The next fifteen hours are a whirlwind. Niall is tasked with buying tickets and Louis sends him fifty texts asking what to bring and whether he’ll need sunscreen and should he pack a jumper, maybe, just in case? Niall texts back with a screenshot of the weather in Melbourne and says _make your own fuckin decision jesus !!_ and Louis writes back _if only I could flip you off via emoji_ with the little red angry face. Niall laughs and sends back four red hearts.

Niall passes out on the plane and doesn’t wake up until they’re taxiing to the gate in Melbourne. It’s bright through the little airplane windows and he squints against white light; he has one earbud in and a Christmas song is playing as the pilot says, “Welcome to Melbourne,” and Louis elbows him and grins. “G’day, _mate_ ,” Louis says with the worst Australian accent Niall has ever heard in his life, but he laughs anyway and feels like he’s home.

Niall wears a beanie and sunglasses in the airport and he feels painfully and overwhelmingly exposed. Louis walks close next to him, out of habit more than anything else, Niall figures. He scans for throngs of girls, but only a couple of people seem to recognize them at all. Niall’s arranged for a rental car, and Louis signs all the paperwork while Niall signs a few autographs, and finally Louis grabs his arm and drags him out to the car. It’s a little silver sporty convertible and Niall whistles. “This’ll set me back a bit, I was expecting a van,” he says, and Louis laughs, loud and real. 

He loads their bags into the trunk and tosses the keys to Niall. “Alright, then?” Louis asks once they’re in the car, like he always does.

“’m fine,” he says, hanging his sunglasses from the collar of his shirt. He exhales and feels like he can breathe, finally. “That wasn’t terrible.”

“Not at all,” Louis says softly. There’s a moment, quick and fleeting, and then Louis takes out his phone and tugs at Niall’s hood. “Get in, c’mon,” he says, and holds up his phone. Niall laughs and leans close and Louis snaps a picture; he looks at it and Niall wrinkles his nose. Terrible. “Not bad,” Louis says, and Niall shakes his head.

“That’s fuckin’ terrible,” he says. “Let me do it.”

Louis rolls his eyes and says, “You’re like the selfie _police_ , Niall, _honestly_ , don’t you have driving to do?” But he hands his phone over, lets Niall take a proper selfie. It’s centered much better, Niall thinks, and it’s not as blurry as the one Louis had taken. Niall knows what he’s doing. “There,” he says, and Louis studies the picture. 

“You’ve got a knack for this, kid,” Louis says, tucking his phone in his bag, and Niall laughs. Louis is still smiling and he says, “You laugh like laughing sounds, y’know? Like. Ha, ha, ha.” He smiles bigger, brighter. Niall smiles back and his chest tightens a bit, just a touch. He starts driving.

 

Louis must’ve been awake for most of the flight because he sleeps through nearly the entire drive. Niall puts his iPod on shuffle and hears too many One Direction songs before he switches over to John Mayer. Louis wakes up halfway through Born and Raised and groans. “No,” he says through a yawn. "Honestly, Niall.”

The music feels like sunset and Niall ignores him, turns it up louder. Louis reaches over and turns it back down. Niall is about to argue when Louis sits up in his seat and says, “Pull off here, Niall, take this turn here.” And Niall does, without questioning it because the turn is literally _right_ here, and when he realizes where they’ve stopped he wishes he’d held his ground. 

“Jesus,” he breathes. “Surfing.”

They’ve come to a roadside stand, looks like, a row of colorful surfboards lined up against worn wood planks. Louis looks positively gleeful and Niall wants to slap him. “Surfing!” Louis echoes, and he gets out of the car. He’s halfway to the shack before Niall can turn the car off, and by the time Niall catches up, Louis has his wallet out and he’s pushing his sunglasses up on his head, taking out a credit card.

“Do not waste your money on this,” Niall says. “Just get _one_ , I’ll watch you.”

“Surfing isn’t any fun with just _one_ surfer,” Louis says, and suddenly they’ve got two surfboards and two wetsuits and Louis is leading the way to the changing rooms. 

Niall just follows him, like he’s got no willpower of his own, like Louis is some kind of Pied Piper or something. “I’ve got no fuckin’ idea how to wear this,” he calls over the wall as he’s trying to figure out how the wetsuit goes on. Louis’s sigh echoes on the walls of the changing room and he says, “The zip goes in the back.”

So Niall pulls it on as best he can and immediately feels trapped. Louis is leaning against the wall next to the door when Niall finally gets situated. Niall drops his shirt on the floor and Louis pushes off the wall, walks over. “Turn around, you’re a right mess,” he says, but his voice is soft and fond and he puts his hand on Niall’s shoulder. Niall sighs and turns his back to Louis and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His suit is a little too big and the sleeves are bunched at the shoulders. He feels like a clumsy contrast to Louis, whose suit fits perfectly and whose hair falls perfectly over his forehead. He already looks sunkissed and relaxed, he looks like he belongs here, belongs in the waves. Jealousy isn’t a trait Niall’s proud of, but sometimes, in moments like this, it comes on in an overwhelming rush. He definitely does not belong here. This was a mistake.

Louis puts his hand on Niall’s hip and zips up his suit, and Niall inhales a little but doesn’t let the breath out. “The water’ll fix this up,” Louis says gently. “Mine’s too big, too.” He squeezes Niall’s shoulder, and just that touch makes Niall feel a little better. Louis has a way sometimes.

Louis shows him how to carry his board to the beach. There’s a soft breeze, and when it catches him just right, Niall feels like he’s going to take off flying. When they get to the sand, Louis lays down his own board and turns to Niall. “Alright, put yours down on the sand.”

Niall just drops the fucking thing onto the sand and honestly, he’s never felt so bad at something that he’s never tried before. “You’ve wasted your money on this, mate,” he says to Louis, apologizing silently, but Louis just rolls his eyes.

“This is supposed to be a bonding experience,” Louis says, leaning down and straightening out Niall’s board. “You’ve left your phone in the car, you don’t even have the Polaroid, and now you’re complaining about a private surfing lesson from _me_. Get on this board. Lay down, on your belly.”

“Liam seems to be better at this, I’d much prefer a lesson from Liam.” Niall doesn’t look at Louis, just steps up on the board, grinning at the sand. Louis puts a hand on Niall’s bicep and Niall reacts quick, grabs his wrist. “Louis! I’ve got bum knees, you can’t push me around!”

“Oh my _god,_ ” Louis says, but he pulls back immediately. “You’ve been using that excuse for too fucking long.”

“They’re extremely painful,” Niall says, petulant. “Achy. Stiff. I think the salt water’s gonna…” He pauses for effect. “I don’t know. Maybe I should -“

Louis starts talking over him then. “Lay down,” he says firmly, and Niall sighs – for effect, again, but Louis seems completely oblivious – and lays down. He laces his fingers together and lays his head down, the sun hot on his back. He watches Louis but his eyelids feel heavy and Louis is saying a lot about balance and the nose of the board and sand versus water and blah, blah, blah. Niall nods and mmhmms through a lot of it, but then Louis is pushing himself up to stand on the board and says, “Like this, are you paying attention?” 

Niall sighs and says, “’m not, sorry, sorry.”

Louis throws his arms up. “Unbelievable."

Niall laughs and says, “What d'you want from me, then? Bum _knees_ , what if they break in these waves?" He’s messing with Louis, mostly, but it seems to work because Louis picks up his board and walks towards the waves. Niall pushes up on his elbows and watches him. “Hey, wait,” he calls out. “Where are you going?”

“I’m not wasting this,” Louis calls back. “You don’t know what you’re missing, Niall!” Niall watches as he wades into the water up to his chest, his surfboard a bright shock of orange in endless blue water. There’s a few seconds where he just waits, watching, and Niall holds his breath. Then Louis is up on the board on his belly, just like he’d shown Niall on the beach but for real, really in the waves. Niall moves up to sit on the sand next to his board and puts his sunglasses on. He really wishes he had his phone now, or at least the Polaroid, because Louis stands up and looks like he might lose his balance at first, but then he catches himself, and he looks like a right professional out there. The waves are smaller than what he’s surfed in the past, Niall’s sure, and he only falls once or twice before getting himself upright and riding a couple of waves. It really doesn’t look _that_ hard, Niall thinks. He watches as Louis falls a couple more times and rides a few more waves, and then he’s coming back to the beach, pushing his hair off his forehead. “Niall!” he says, breathless. “You don’t know what you’re missing, it’s so _warm_.”

“Look at you! You look like you belong here!” Niall squints up at him and Louis smiles brighter than the sun. 

“Come try it, c’mon,” Louis says. He holds out his hand and Niall almost says no, almost pushes Louis’s hand away, but he’s still smiling and he almost looks hopeful and hey. Hey. Maybe it’s not that hard.

“I could try it,” Niall says slowly, and Louis smiles bigger, brighter, blinding. Niall takes his hand and Louis pulls him up. Niall fumbles with his board and yes, he can do this, it’s easy. He gets into the water and wades out, like Louis, and they get out chest deep and Louis says, “Okay, now. Like I showed you, like this.” He gets up on his belly on his board and Niall goes over the steps in his head, aims his board and starts to get on, and then completely flips over under the waves. 

He comes up coughing and Louis is midsentence by the time he gets his bearings. “—for the wave,” Louis is saying, and Niall holds up a hand and shakes his head.

“What? What?” Niall says once he catches his breath, because he’d inhaled _water_ and Louis is worried about the _waves_. “What?”

“Wait for the waves,” Louis says, gesturing blindly behind them, and Niall looks over his shoulder and resets his mind, thinks, okay. He can _do_ this. “You can do it,” Louis says. “Ready…almost…now!”

And it all just happens again, he starts to get on the board, flips over, inhales water, coughing.b“Try again!” Louis says. He sounds so optimistic and encouraging that Niall just thinks yes, okay, good idea, but he tries again and fails again and it just keeps happening over and over and over. He can’t get on this fucking board.

After what feels like the fiftieth time, he comes up and pushes his hair off his forehead and says, “Lou, I’ve got to,” and coughs again. “This is not going to happen, mate, I can’t—“

“No,” Louis says and he sounds so disappointed. Niall feels bad. “No, it—you’re just having a bit of bad luck.”

Niall laughs and shakes his head. “A bit of bad luck,” he says and laughs, and then Louis laughs too. Niall grabs the board and starts for shore. “Stick with Payno, mate. Maybe try and teach Zayn next time. At least I gave it a shot. It’s the bright side of things, all that.”

Louis paddles along next to him. “Zayn said he’d try,” he says, and then he gets all indignant when Niall has the nerve to laugh at that too. “He did!” Louis says, but he’s laughing now too, they’re both almost hysterical by the time they get back to dry sand. “I mean, I believed him. It sounded believable when he said it.”

Niall buys two towels at the surf shack when they return the boards and tells Louis it’s his Christmas present and his birthday present in one. “Oh,” Louis says, deadpan. “How thoughtful.”

“I thought of you the second I saw it,” Niall says. He hangs his around his shoulders as they go back to change into their clothes. “I mean.”

“It’s quite nice,” Louis says, and he hooks his arm around Niall’s neck and kisses him loudly on the cheek. “I’ll sleep with it every night. Cherish it forever, think of you always, et cetera.” He smiles like he’s got a secret and it’s nice, really, seeing him this way. Louis looks like he’s unwound for the first time in what feels like forever and Niall likes him this way, calm and real and relaxed. Louis keeps his arm around Niall’s neck as they get to the changing rooms and Niall looks at his feet and smiles.

 

It’s mid-afternoon when they finally get to the festival. It’s hot outside, humid, but it’s in the middle of the forest and when they get out of the car, Niall takes a deep breath. No one’s said anything to them yet – not at the entrance, not when they got their bracelets, not at the site. Nothing. Niall realizes suddenly that they’re just regular people here. No one’s going to ask for selfies or autographs, they’re just normal people. It hits him all at once and he feels an instant and overwhelming sense of calm. 

Louis is suddenly right at his side. “This feels quite strange,” he says, almost a whisper. “I feel invisible.”

Niall grins at him and takes his bag from the backseat. “I love it,” he says. “Best superpower we could ever have. You wanna grab the bag from the boot, then?” He closes the door, presses a button on the keys and the horn starts honking. “Shit, shit,” he mutters, pushes another one. The horn stops but he hears all the doors lock.

“Niall.” Louis is standing at the trunk with his arms crossed. “The button has a picture on it. It’s literally a lock that is not locked.”

“There’s no pictures, they’ve all worn,” Niall says, a bit too defensive. He pushes the button next to the red one because obviously the red one is the alarm; there’s a sound from the doors again but when Louis goes to open the boot it stays closed. “Okay,” Niall says, and pushes the only button left, and there it goes.

“This is going to be the longest weekend,” Louis announces as he takes the bag from the trunk. “Is this everything? Will you be able to unlock it again later? Shall we make some notes on which one’s the unlock and which is the alarm?”

“You’re an arse,” Niall says. He shoves the keys in his pocket. “The red one’s the alarm.”

“Tell you what,” Louis says. Maybe it’s just been a long day already, but Niall feels like Louis is being too condescending, too patronizing. “You go find food, I’ll set up camp.”

It’s a brilliant idea, though, so Niall nods and says, “Yep,” and hands his bag over. He walks away without a word and doesn’t look back, clenching his hands into and out of fists until his frustration starts to go away. Their site is a good one, close to where everything’s going on. Niall walks into the crowd and lets himself disappear, just wanders until he finds a little building covered in handpainted signs for torches, bags of crisps, chocolate bars, beer. They haven’t brought torches, Niall realizes, so he queues in line and tries to make a mental inventory of what they’ve got versus what they don’t. When he gets to the counter he buys two torches, a few chocolate bars, some bottles of water. 

“And…” Niall pauses, purses his lips. “What’s your best local beer?” he asks. The girl working the counter laughs and gets him a six pack of some beer that looks pretty impressive but that he’s never heard of before. Niall smiles at her and says, “This is the best one, I’ve got your word, then?” and she laughs again and replies, “Of course you do, it’s the best one.” Decent endorsement, really, Niall thinks.

He pays for everything and she packs it all up in a big paper bag, and then he realizes they could probably use some matches, too. She gives him a pack but won’t let him pay and says, “Don’t worry about it, really,” when he tries to insist, so he pays her with a beer instead.

When he reunites with Louis back at their site, the tent is up and Louis is sitting cross-legged in the grass next to it. He’s wearing a crown of flowers and has a bright red heart painted on his cheek, right in the spot where it curves when he smiles. Niall sets the bag down next to the car and tilts his head to the side. Louis sits up straight. “Look what I’ve built, Niall!” he says proudly, gesturing to the tent. 

“You did it!” Niall says. Every drop of frustration is gone now and he loves it here, he really does. “Look at this craftsmanship.”

“I’m in heaven here,” Louis says, leaning back on his hands. “I never want to leave.” 

Niall laughs at that but it’s empty, really. They've been here for maybe an hour and he wants to stay forever, too. He unpacks the bag and hands Louis one of the beers.

"Where’d you find all this?” Louis asks.

Niall sits down next to him and sighs. He’s wise now, he knows things Louis can only dream of. “It’s a big world out here, Tommo,” he says sagely, and he smiles. “There’s a little shop, just across this road.”

“Oh, hey!” Louis sits up again. “Do they sell scissors, d'you think? I’ve only got skinnies with me, can you imagine? No shorts.”

Niall stares at him for a second. “No shorts,” he repeats. 

“Mmhmm,” Louis nods. “I could turn these into shorts, though.”

“You didn’t bring any shorts?” Niall says, because he really can’t believe this. “Not even some swim trunks?”

Louis sighs impatiently. “Don’t get caught up on the details,” he says, waving a hand. “I could really use a pair of scissors.”

“Don’t drink all the beer,” Niall says. “I’ll be back.” He goes back to the shop, gets back in line and this time a different girl is working at the counter. He asks if they have any scissors and they don’t, but a couple of girls in line behind him tell him they have a sewing kit with a pair of scissors they'll let him borrow. It turns out the girls have the Volkswagen bus that’s parked next to their site so Niall waits for them to buy their stuff and they all walk back together. “I’ve found you some scissors,” he says to Louis, who is still sitting next to the tent with his crown and his heart, only now he’s wearing a pair of aviators and his sleeves are rolled up to his shoulders. 

“I don’t tell you enough,” Louis says, “how much I love and appreciate you.”

One of the girls comes back and hands Niall the scissors and Niall smiles at her. “You’ve saved me,” Niall says. “You have no idea.” She laughs and puts her hand on his arm and says, “They’ve finally come in useful, I’m glad we could help. It’s serendipity.”

Louis smiles bright and thanks her from his spot on the ground and she smiles back politely and wishes them luck on their project and walks back to her site. And that’s it. Nothing else. No pictures, no autographs, nothing, and Niall feels like they’re in heaven, too.

Louis takes out a ripped pair of jeans and gets to work, cutting slowly across the fabric just below the knee. He’s working hard, very intent, and this would be the perfect time for a picture except when Niall checks his phone he’s only got forty-two percent battery life and no service. “Well, shit,” he says. “Shoulda charged my phone.”

“Oh _no_. How will you share any selfies??” Louis asks in a really sarcastic voice. 

Niall calls out, “Say cheese,” and Louis looks up, barely halfway done with one leg. He’s already smiling. It's rehearsed and automatic from the countless times Niall’s taken his picture on tour but it’s real and that’s the important thing, really. Niall snaps the picture and his battery immediately goes down to forty-one percent, but it’s worth it. 

Niall sits down beside him and stretches his legs out, watches Louis work and massages his knee. It’s a little sore, nothing terrible, but he worries that they might be getting shitty weather. “Alright?” Louis asks but he doesn’t look up.

“Yeah, yeah,” Niall says. “Just a bit sore.”

“Those bum knees of yours,” Louis says, shakes his head.

“Fuckin’ things,” Niall says. He reaches over and takes Louis’s sunglasses off his head, slips them on and tilts his face up to the sky. They sit in silence while Louis finishes his shorts, and when he holds them up and says, “Done,” Niall looks at them and the legs are clearly uneven. “Hmm,” Louis adds, thoughtful. “I’ve done something wrong here.”

“Nah,” Niall says, “go change, we can fix ‘em.” Louis changes in the tent and comes out, and Niall rolls the cuffs up until they’re mostly even, just above his knees. Louis grabs Niall’s face with both hands and kisses the top of his head. “You belong on Project Runway,” he says. 

Niall smiles and looks up at Louis. “What’s with the heart?” he asks, because he’s been wondering but Louis hasn’t really mentioned it. 

Louis takes a deep breath, his hands still pressed to Niall’s cheeks. “It’s a long story, Niall,” he says, and he’s looking off into the distance but Niall’s pretty sure he’s just being an idiot. “A lot happened in our time apart this afternoon.”

“I was gone for like, half an hour,” Niall says. He stands up and it takes a second before Louis pulls his hands away, lets them fall to his sides. “And I brought back beer.”

“It’s delicious beer,” Louis nods. “And I’m exhausted.” He picks up the fabric and the scissors and Niall really feels like he’s missing something. 

“You’ve barely done anything,” Niall starts, but Louis is already shaking his head, fired up.

“I built a tent,” he says. “And surfing, that was exhausting. Riding in a car!” He can’t keep it up, though, because he starts laughing and his eyes go soft. “I’ve still got loads of sleep to catch up on, c’mon.”

“Alright, okay,” Niall says, and Louis is already headed back to the tent. 

“Find your own heart, Niall,” he calls over his shoulder, and before Niall can say anything he’s zipped the door shut.

 

Niall ventures out to find his own heart, he figures, and he passes a bunch of campsites and a few music stages before he comes across this marketplace filled with bright tents, colorful flags, beautiful music. He just stands and takes it all in for a minute, two minutes, ten. He almost turns back and goes to wake Louis up when he sees a bright orange tent with a handpainted sign for bodyart and temporary tattoos; he heads there first and figures he’ll just bring Louis back later.

Niall ends up sitting with a Swedish girl who’s doing tattoos with ballpoint pen. She speaks with a thick accent and laughs at his jokes while she draws a photorealistic castle on the inside of his arm. She sketches black ink lines across his skin, cross-hatching the shadows and crumbling the rocks at the edges near his wrist. She adds a little bit of blue to the sky and some red to a flag at the top and blows on it when she’s done; Niall shivers even though the air is heavy. She says, “Give it a couple more seconds to be careful,” and while he’s giving it a couple more seconds she ties a bright green braided friendship bracelet around his other wrist. He takes a picture so he doesn’t forget to show it to Zayn later; his battery’s in the red now so he just turns his phone off and makes a mental note to actually take out his Polaroid when he gets back.

A couple tents down, a guy is sitting at a table folding colorful paper into beautiful shapes, and Niall stands and watches for ten minutes while he makes cranes and roses and small paper boats. There’s a bowl on the table filled with paper stars puffed with air, and a bright red one in the middle reminds Niall of Louis. He says, “How much are these stars here?” and the guy, in the middle of building a paper rose, looks up and smiles and says, “All it costs is a wish.” He points to a worn notebook that kinda looks like one of Harry’s journals, and all Niall has to do is write down a wish. 

He thinks for a long time, long enough for the guy to start on a second rose, and finally he jots down _I wish I could find my own heart_ because it doesn’t make sense yet, really, and as much as he thinks Louis was taking the piss, there’s more to it than that. He signs it just the letter N and the guy smiles at him and nods towards the bowl. Niall says, “Thanks, mate, your work’s really beautiful,” and means it, and he starts back to the tent because he feels overwhelmed.

Louis is still sleeping when he gets back. Niall works out a trade with the neighbors on the other side from the Volkswagen bus – a couple of beers for couple of joints – and when Louis finally wakes up just past sundown, Niall has two chairs set up and he’s even started a fire.

“Lookit you,” Louis says, yawning. “Regular outdoorsman.” He sits down and the heart is smudged on his cheek and one knee of his shorts has come unrolled halfway; Niall reaches over and fixes it and then he holds out his arm so Louis can see his castle.

Louis takes Niall’s wrist and peers at it, studies it silently for a long time, and then he finally says, “This is sick, Niall. This is really great.”

“Trumps your heart a bit, yeah?” Niall says softly. He rolls one of the joints back and forth between his fingers on the other hand, the other tucked away in his shirt pocket. 

“ _Yeah_ ,” Louis says. He brushes his fingertips over the crumbling stones at Niall’s wrist. “Wish I’d found this one, this is so sick.”

“You’d have to fit it in the blank parts, though.” Niall curls his hand into a fist and his fingers brush Louis’s hand a little, ghost-soft, and he swallows hard and says, louder, “Look what I’ve got.” He holds up the joint and Louis makes a noise that sounds like purring.

“Niiiall,” he says. “This is brilliant.” Niall takes out the pack of matches and lights it, takes a drag, hands the joint over. “You’re a lightweight, though,” Louis says thoughtfully. “We’ll work on that.”

Niall laughs as he exhales because he’s not _that_ bad. “I’m not,” he says, but he coughs in the middle of it and, okay. Louis exhales smoke rings while he laughs and he looks up at the sky. The clouds are purple and gray and Niall’s knees still ache.

“’S alright,” Louis says and he sounds like he’s in a dream. “We’ll work on it.”

 

Niall wakes up at half four the next morning. The constant time changes on tour fuck with his head anyway but this is just too much. He's been on London time for nearly three weeks and he’s almost got a schedule down, but now it’s half four in the morning and he feels like it’s supposed to be the afternoon.

Louis, bless his fucking heart, is sound asleep like a baby next to him. He can sleep through quite literally anything – lessons learned from Zayn, Niall supposes – and Niall hates him for it. He rolls onto his side and watches Louis for a while, tries to focus on his breathing to see if maybe that will lull him back to sleep, but that doesn’t work and suddenly it’s nearly six and the sun is starting to show in the shadows outside.

He finally gets up and starts a little fire, steals one of Louis’s sweatshirts and pulls the hood up. He fiddles with the drawstrings at the hood and thinks of tying it in a bow the way Louis used to, way back when. Decades ago, feels like, when it’s really just been a few years. Niall stares at the fire and feels tired and old, and it aches deep inside but not deep enough to knock him out. 

Louis comes out and joins him a couple hours later, when the sun is bright and regular in the sky. He smiles at Niall and ruffles his hair, sits down beside him. “Morning, sunshine,” he says, his voice rough. He looks rested, relaxed, and Niall smiles at him. “Have you been up for hours or was that a dream?”

“Since half four,” Niall says. He pokes at the fire with a stick. “Felt like afternoon. I don’t even know what daytime is anymore.”

Louis doesn’t say anything but he nods a little, eyes focused on the fire, and after a couple minutes he knocks his knee against Niall’s. “You want some coffee?”

“I saw this little trailer thing yesterday,” Niall says. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis says, and he stands up. “Let’s go find that, yeah?” 

Niall looks up at him and there’s a split second where he feels a flutter in his chest, behind his heart, close to his belly. Louis’s hair is sleep-messy and his shirt is wrinkled. He's still wearing those shorts and the cuffs are unrolled and starting to fray already. The heart is gone completely now but his cheeks are flushed red. Niall can’t quite tell if he’s blushing or if it’s just the heart, smudged and unrecognizable so many hours later. If he were anyone else – almost literally, _anyone_ else – he’d be a right mess, but Niall has this fleeting and urgent thought that he’s lovely and comfortable and his heart starts to race.

“Niall.” Niall blinks quick and Louis is watching him with eyes that look concerned, the same eyes he’d gotten that morning at the tea shop when Louis really seemed to think they’d be losing Niall. “Coffee?”

Niall shakes his head quick and says, “Yes. Coffee.” He stands up, and they go.

The problem, though, is that Niall can’t remember where he’d seen the coffee trailer and Louis thinks it was in a completely different area from where Niall thought he’d remembered it being, so they end up nearly arguing before Louis grabs his hand and says, “Come on.” He doesn’t say anything else but Niall follows anyway, and they end up at a tent with yoga classes and massages and fresh juices.

Two hours later, they’ve done yoga and Niall’s had fresh carrot juice and they’ve both gotten massages, and Louis is getting two bold glow-in-the-dark chevrons applied to his shoulder. Niall’s forgotten the Polaroid again but Louis says, “We’ve got to remember to take a picture of this when we get back.” Niall wonders for a second if Liam and Harry and Zayn even know where they are or if they’ve just dropped off the grid since the plane left London. But then Louis looks up at him with his hair in his eyes and smiles a brilliant smile, and Niall can’t remember what day it is. His head spins and he has to sit down.

Maybe Louis can sense the vulnerability because next thing Niall knows, they’re leaving the tent and he’s got four glow-in-the-dark stars trailing from the spot under his ear down the side of his neck. Louis walks close beside him and their elbows keep bumping together. Niall feels rested and refreshed but also dizzy, like a top that’s been spun too fast.

They go back to the campsite and Niall gets out his guitar while Louis goes to shower. Niall strums aimlessly and smiles at people who look over as they walk by. He tries to think of lyrics but that’s more Louis’s thing, really, and then every lyric he does think of is about Louis and, well.

He puts the guitar aside and changes clothes in the tent. When he comes back out, Louis is walking back down the road with wet hair and a fresh change of clothes. “Have you been playing?” Louis asks eagerly, nodding at Niall’s guitar. 

“Nah, just messing around,” Niall says. He chews at his thumbnail. “Why?”

“Messing around with what?” Louis asks. He puts his clothes in the tent and rummages around in his bag for a minute; when he comes back out he’s carrying this old worn out journal with a cracked spine and rubber bands holding the pages in. Niall’s seen it in Louis’s luggage about a billion times but he’s never seen Louis write in it and it turns out it’s his songwriting book. 

“That’s your book,” Niall says, more to himself than to Louis but it comes out anyway, and Louis looks up, smiling a little bashfully.

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “I guess. Pretty beat up, I suppose, yeah?” He holds it up but he’s careful with it and Niall smiles and picks up his guitar.

Louis opens the book and flips to a blank page, writing in pencil as Niall strums something that floats off in the breeze. “What’s that, play that again?” Louis says thoughtfully, and then suddenly it’s three hours later and they’ve written nearly a full song, start to finish, and Niall’s stomach is growling.

Louis looks proud and a little surprised as he reads back over the notes and lyrics he’s scribbled in his book and Niall grins at him and says, “Well. Looks like I’m the new Liam Payne." Louis swats him in the side of the head, but he also laughs loud.

“Don’t let him hear you say that. He'd be positively _crushed_.” Louis carefully wraps the rubber bands around his book again, puts it back in the tent. “Let’s find food, I’m fucking famished.”

 

They have dinner at a place called Three Blue Ducks – Niall wants to order one of everything on the menu but he settles for the chicken curry and rice. Louis gets the pulled pork burger but while he’s trying to decide he says, “What if we just _share_ the brisket?” Niall doesn’t even need him to say anything past _share_ because he’s in.

By the time they’re done eating, it’s dark and Niall feels like he could just sit here all night, he’s so full. Louis leans back in his chair and finally he says, “Y’know what would be fantastic, is some alcohol.”

This is the best idea Niall’s heard since Louis suggested food, so they walk until they find a chalk sign that says _BAR!_ and someone’s playing the guitar inside a tent full of candlelight. “Here,” Niall says, and they go inside. They’re serving cider and an entire menu of locally brewed beers and Niall wants to try one of everything. Louis orders a couple of beers and Niall orders two more, and then two turns to four, turns to too many. Louis is singing along to the songs he knows and he’s laughing, eyes sparkling when he turns to Niall. “Niall,” he says, then, “ _Niall._ ”

Niall feels like everything is electric, too-bright, crackling. He’s drunk but happily so, and he leans in a little closer and studies Louis for a long minute. “Louis,” he says, and he laughs. 

Louis laughs, too, and he grabs Niall’s shoulder. “This is the best time,” he says, and his eyes go serious and he bites his lip, pauses for a second. “I’m having a really great time,” he says carefully. “I’m really glad we,” he starts, but then he pauses and just looks at Niall for what feels like forever. He laughs a little, scrunches up his nose, and says, “I’m so drunk,” laughing through each word. 

Niall feels completely heartsick, blindingly overwhelmed with this fondness that’s blossomed into something bigger than them both. He takes a deep breath and he’s about to say something when Louis taps the side of his neck four times and says, “You’re glowing!” 

“Let’s go,” Niall says out of nowhere, “you wanna go back to, to the tent?” He’s not quite sure what he’s saying but Louis nods and says, “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” and they don’t even wait for the song to finish before they get up and stumble out of the tent.

Louis is giggling when they get outside and he grabs Niall’s elbow, nearly taking them both out before he catches his balance. He holds up one finger and whispers, “Hang on,” and Niall freezes in place. Then Louis says, “Okay,” and they start walking again. This time Louis links their arms at the elbow and Niall’s arm is at an awkward angle but it’s alright, really. It's okay. They walk past an enormous inflatable swan in the middle of the market and off in the distance Niall can hear music. They walk back to the campsite in silence and Louis keeps reaching over to touch the stars that glow behind Niall’s ear.

When they get back, Niall clumsily starts a fire while Louis opens the last two beers. They’re warm but Niall doesn’t much care, really, and Louis opens them both and hands him one. “Like we need these,” Louis says, laughing, and he clinks the bottle with Niall’s but mostly clinks it with Niall’s knuckles instead.

Niall has the other joint in his pocket still and he takes it out and lights it. This time, he manages to take a long hit off it without coughing and he feels proud. Louis watches him and smiles big and says, “What an improvement!” Niall tilts his head back and laughs.

He studies the sky and can only make out a couple of stars; the night’s clouded over and his knee’s aching again, worse this time. He wonders for a second if the tent is waterproof. “Louis,” he starts, but he’s not really sure if Louis would know if it’s waterproof, either. 

“Think it’s gonna rain?” Louis asks. He’s got his head tilted back, too, and Niall wonders what he’s thinking about. 

“Yeah,” Niall says softly. “Think so.”

“Yeah,” Louis whispers. “D’you ever…” He pauses and hands the joint back to Niall, but Niall just takes it and waits. “When I came back from the showers,” he starts over, but then he just trails off again. 

Niall still waits.

After what feels like forever, Louis goes on. “You kinda looked like you did back at boot camp,” he says, and he turns and smiles at Niall with tired eyes. “A bit less blond, but the heart is still there.”

“Hmm.” Niall watches him for a long minute. “Think you told me to find my heart earlier.”

“No,” Louis says, “did I?” He turns his face back to the sky. “I don’t think so.”

“Mmm, you did,” Niall says. He passes the joint back over and Louis takes it, closes his eyes. “Don’t know if I found it, though.”

“You’re mine,” Louis says, so softly that Niall’s not sure he heard it right. But then Louis opens his eyes and sighs at the stars and the clouds and he says, louder, “You’re my heart. All of ours.” A pause that feels like forever but probably lasts one or two seconds, and then, “Mine.”

Niall shifts in his seat and says, “What?” He frowns because the entire campsite seems to be wobbling, spinning, and he says again, “What?”

Louis doesn’t answer for a long time and Niall just waits some more and finally Louis says, “There was this time at boot camp when you sang Jason Mraz in the sun.” He pauses and Niall watches his throat as he swallows, watches him lick his lips. “You had your guitar.”

“I sang loads of Jason Mraz at boot camp,” Niall says and his voice comes out quiet, almost a whisper but not quite. 

“This was different, though,” Louis says impatiently. “This time was, it was just different.”

Niall sits up a little. “What d’you mean, I’m your—I’m not your heart, why was that time different?”

Louis looks over at him and his eyes are desperately, impossibly blue. “C’mon, Niall,” he whispers. “I’ve been fond of you for _ages_.” He says it like he’s been so blatantly obvious, like he expects Niall to just _know_ , but Niall didn’t know because Louis had Eleanor and it’s been four years since he sang Jason Mraz at boot camp and how on earth was he _supposed_ to know?

“No,” Niall says, shakes his head. “Stop.”

“They used to ask,” Louis says, like Niall hadn’t even said anything at all, “like. They’d ask about El and about my plans for the future, and I’d give all these bullshit answers because we never really talked about it much, me and her. The future.”

“You thought about it, though,” Niall says.

Louis shrugs. “Guess so,” he says. “In the beginning. Not much near the end. It all went a bit…pear-shaped.” He laughs a little. “Whatever that means.”

“She’s very sweet,” Niall says, because maybe Louis is just sad. Maybe he’d acted too quickly with Eleanor, maybe he’s just confused. “Maybe you should just—”

“D’you ever sit in one of those interviews,” Louis says, “and they ask you a question and you’re like, fuck, I’ve answered this before, I’m so _tired_ of this?” Niall isn’t sure if he means he’s tired of the question or tired of the interview or tired of everything. “I got so _tired_ of hearing her name. Like.” He sighs, takes a long hit off the joint, and closes his eyes. It’s a long time before he exhales. “It just felt wrong, sometimes.”

“I dunno,” Niall says softly. “You always sounded convincing. Didn’t sound wrong.”

“After a while, they’d say her name and I’d be like, I’d start thinking of other things. Replace her with other things, other people.” He looks at Niall and smiles again but it’s empty, so sad, and Niall frowns back. “I’d think of somebody like you, isn’t that…” He pauses and Niall is afraid to move, afraid to breathe. “ _That’s_ crazy,” Louis finishes, and it’s almost just an exhale of breath, words soft enough to be carried away on the breeze. 

“Wait,” Niall says. He’s gripping the arm of his camp chair so tight that the canvas has started to dig into his palms. “You…someone _like_ me? That’s not crazy, Lou, d’you mean someone like me?”

“The sun was so bright, I can’t believe you don’t remember that exact day,” Louis says softly. He’s looking back up at the sky but all the stars have gone. Niall feels a sense of dread, like they’d better find shelter before the storm hits except it’s already too late. “The sun was really bright.” 

They’re too drunk for this, Niall realizes in that moment, except now he feels too alert and too aware and his head is spinning with everything Louis won’t say to him. Louis looks over and watches him for a long time but he doesn’t say anything else and Niall doesn’t push it. He takes the joint instead, finishes it off and coughs a little, but Louis still doesn’t have anything to say.

Then the rain comes. 

It’s cold and blinding and breathtaking, going from absolutely nothing but clouds one minute to sheets of stinging water the next. Louis trips over his chair as he’s trying to get up and Niall fumbles with the zipper of the tent. He finally gets the damn thing open and he prays like crazy that it’s waterproof as they both tumble inside. It’s not, of course, but it’s only leaking a little bit and it’s better than nothing. Louis sits beside him and they drip water all over their sleeping bags as the rain pounds down outside.

Niall is quietly thanking god that he’d remembered to put the top up on the convertible when Louis says softly, “Shoulda gotten a van.”

Niall starts laughing because they really should’ve gotten that fucking van. Louis laughs too, big peals of laughter that drown out the raindrops. After a couple of minutes they’re gasping for air and the rain seems to be coming down even harder, and then Louis says, breathlessly, “Niall.”

“I’m exhausted,” is all Niall can think to say, and Louis nods a little too quickly and says, “Right, yeah, me too.” They crawl into their sleeping bags and they end up lying facing each other, and Niall means to go right to sleep, he does. He even says goodnight and Louis says goodnight back, and there are a few moments of nothing but rain before Louis says it again. “Niall.” 

Niall opens his eyes long enough to make eye contact with him in the dark. Louis has one arm folded under his ear like a pillow, his other hand flat on the floor of the tent between them. Niall watches him and Louis watches back. Finally, Niall says, “Did you mean someone _like_ me, before? Or did you mean me?” 

Louis doesn’t say anything but he puts his hand on the side of Niall’s neck and whispers, “No more talking, I’m tired." Before Niall can say anything, Louis is kissing him and he’s kissing back. Niall grabs the front of Louis’s shirt with both hands and Louis’s fingertips press hard to the skin at the back of Niall’s neck. Niall feels as if the world’s going to tip upside down and they’ll both fall into the sky.

“I can’t believe,” Louis whispers, pulling back a little, and Niall just pushes himself forward and kisses him, keeps kissing him, because Louis can’t just _stop_ like that.

“You’re tired of talking,” Niall whispers back, kisses along Louis’s jaw. “You said you’re tired of talking.”

“I said I’m tired,” Louis says, but he cups Niall’s chin and studies him for a second. Even in the dark, his eyes feel intense. He kisses him again, soft and careful, and Niall wraps his arm around Louis’s waist, pulling him close. Louis just keeps kissing him and Niall keeps kissing back until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore, and they fall asleep that way, tangled up together in shelter from the rain, like lost souls who’ve finally found their way home. 

The next morning they wake up to hazy sunshine, and Niall’s eyes are scratchy and dry. He thinks back to the night before and it’s all blurry and foggy; it’s like peering at memories through a looking glass and Niall’s not quite sure it wasn’t all a dream.

 

Louis sleeps for most of the day, and by the time he’s up and functioning, Niall has taken another yoga class, bought himself a flower crown, and he’s spent much of the afternoon playing his guitar by the fire. Louis finally gets up close to dinnertime and he yawns and smiles when he sees Niall. “Morning,” he says, and Niall laughs.

They decide to watch George Ezra tonight so they head out to the market and they each have a pork belly burrito for dinner. Niall finally remembers to bring his Polaroid and says, “Get in, c’mon,” and he takes a clumsy selfie. Louis is pulling a face but Niall is smiling and it’s got a bit of charm to it. Afterwards, Louis pulls Niall into the bodyart tent again and they both get neon stripes painted across their cheeks under their eyes. 

They buy a couple more beers at the shop and go back to the campsite to get their flower crowns, and then they walk back down to the stage for the show. It's packed, mobbed, so Louis grabs them a spot near the back where they can still breathe a little. Louis is wearing his cutoffs and has his sleeves rolled up on his shoulders again; he looks like an angel when the lights go down. Niall is wearing his flower crown, and when the music starts, Louis steps a little closer. He puts his hand on the small of Niall’s back, tentatively, and Niall’s never felt more alive in his whole life. Louis sings along during Budapest and Niall takes a picture but Louis doesn’t even notice. Niall tucks the photo into his back pocket for safe keeping.

Afterwards, Niall grabs Louis’s hand and they leave quickly, before the crowd. He doesn’t let go of Louis’s hand and Louis doesn’t pull his hand away, and they walk back to the market again. Niall takes him back to the tent with the origami, where there are now are two guys building an enormous paper dragon. Louis stands silent and watches for a while.

“If you give them a wish, they’ll give you a star,” Niall says softly. The bowl is still there and it’s even fuller now, almost overflowing with hundreds of stars.

Louis takes a step closer to the table and the guy who gave Niall the red star holds out the old notebook. Louis writes something quick and hands it back before Niall can see what he’s written. He picks out a star that’s bigger than the one Niall had gotten, a bright green one that glitters in the light. “Iiiirish,” he says softly, dragging out the beginning, and he looks up at Niall and smiles. The paint under his eyes has smudged across his cheeks, but he’s still so beautiful. 

Louis holds out the star and Niall takes it, holds it carefully in his hand, when Louis takes his other hand and whispers conspiratorially, “Let’s disappear into the night.” Niall wishes they had capes but he figures the flower crowns will do.

They walk all the way to the end of the road and end up at a beach. Moonlight is sparkling bright on the water and the waves are crashing onto the sand like symphonies. Niall stands back far enough so he doesn’t get wet but Louis walks right towards the water, kicks his shoes off and walks into the waves. “Lou,” Niall calls, but Louis either ignores him or doesn’t hear him, Niall’s not sure. “Louis,” he says again, but still no response.

Louis goes in up to his waist before he stops, turning to look back over his shoulder at Niall, and he looks young in the moonlight. So _young_. Niall swallows hard, and he waits. Louis turns back towards the ocean.

Louis skims his hands over the waves and he stands so still for a few minutes, then Niall sees his hands curl into fists and he just screams. It’s not words or music, nothing melodic, just screams. Niall can’t tell if he’s angry or frustrated or what, but Louis just screams at the waves until he loses all his breath, and Niall realizes he’s been holding his. He doesn’t move and he doesn’t walk towards the water but he waits, watching, until Louis turns back to Niall, still waist deep in the water, and he shouts over the noise of the waves. “Don’t you ever wonder what the fuck the _point_ is sometimes?” 

Niall doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything, and a few minutes later Louis is trudging back up to him, dripping wet, his shoes dangling from his fingers. 

They’re silent the whole way back to the campsite as music thumps heavy in the distance. Niall isn’t sure what to make of things at the moment, so he just lets Louis be, and when they get back to the campsite he busies himself with starting a fire. He sits in one of the chairs and takes his paper star out of his pocket, slowly turns it in his fingers and stares at it, tries to stop his mind from racing. Louis doesn’t even go into the tent to change, just peels off his shorts and digs through his bag until he finds a pair of sweatpants and pulls them on, changes into his jumper. He sits down next to Niall at the fire and sighs, and Niall listens to the flames crackling until he can’t take it anymore. “Alright?” he says, but he doesn’t look at Louis.

There’s a long pause and then Louis says softly, “No, but I’m not sure why.”

“Nothing to do with me?” Niall whispers, and he glances sideways at Louis, but Louis is already shaking his head.

“Nah,” he says, and he sounds a little hoarse. “Never is to do with you.”

He goes quiet again so Niall doesn’t push. He’s known Louis long enough and knows him well enough to know when to stop, so he doesn’t push anymore. Eventually Niall pulls his chair closer to Louis’s so their armrests are overlapping, and Louis links his pinky with Niall’s pinky and stares at the fire. 

Louis falls asleep not long afterwards, his head resting heavy on Niall’s shoulder. Niall doesn’t remember falling asleep but the next time he opens his eyes the sky is pink and the sun is coming up through the trees, and it’s New Year’s Eve.

The fire is smoking, a couple of embers still glowing, and Niall takes a deep breath and coughs, causing Louis to stir a little. Niall sits still and tries not to disturb him too much, but Louis sits up and stretches, squeezes Niall’s bicep and says, “Morning.” His voice is hoarse and Niall winces, looks over at him; Louis is wincing, too. “Sorry about that,” he says, softly. “Last night. I was.” He pauses and shakes his head, and Niall gets it. He doesn’t _get_ it, but he understands as much as he can. 

“’S alright,” Niall says. “I got you some tea yesterday, you want some?” He’d bought a bag after his yoga class; it smells like dirt but they’d said it cures most everything so Niall figures it can’t hurt to try it after last night.

“Yeah,” Louis says, nods, and he coughs. “Please.”

Niall boils some water and the tea really smells like dirt once he brews it, but Louis curls his hands around the mug and takes a sip, and he exhales and the worry goes right away from his eyes. “This is lovely,” he says, and smiles at Niall. “Thank you.”

Once they’ve changed, Louis says they should go back to the beach proper, now that it’s sunny and warm out, so they go. Louis brings the Polaroid and snaps a picture every few steps, until Niall says, “You’re going to waste all of the film, stop!” 

Louis laughs and takes a picture of Niall and says, “It’s your angry face, my favorite,” and tucks the picture in his pocket. He’s back to normal after last night and it’s jarring, honestly, but Niall ignores it and shoves Louis – not hard, but hard enough to make him stumble. Louis shouts, “Niall!” and goes to push him back, but doesn’t at the last minute. Niall clasps his hands over his heart and flutters his eyelashes and says, “You remembered my bum knees!” 

Louis rolls his eyes.

The beach is impossibly bright and goes on for miles; Niall squints out over the water and the ocean is endless. He pulls his shirt off and drops it on the sand, says, “Let’s go, then. Come swim with me,” but Louis doesn’t do anything. “Louis,” Niall says. “Come swim with me.” He doesn’t wait for a response and walks down to the water, and Louis just hesitates for a second before he takes his shirt off and follows.

The water is warm and they splash around for a while, and Louis gets hit by a couple waves, getting knocked over by the last one. He’s laughing, bright and loud, when he looks at Niall. He has no idea where it comes from but Niall says, “That--when you laugh like that, you’re so beautiful.”

Louis stops and looks at him, pushes his hair off his forehead, and Niall feels like time grinds to a standstill. Louis squints at him and wipes water out of his eyes and says, “What?”

Niall swallows hard and tastes saltwater, and his skin feels too tight as the sun dries it, too quick. He shakes his head but Louis comes closer, pushing through the waves, watches him. “You’re beautiful, that’s all, I…” Niall says but he trails off because maybe Louis was right, last night. Maybe he should be wondering, what the fuck’s the point?

Then Louis says, “You kissed me while we were drunk.”

Niall stares at him for a minute and shakes his head. “I did not,” he says, a little too defensively. “No. You kissed _me_ when we were drunk.”

Louis laughs and it sounds a little too disdainful for Niall’s tastes. Then he actually says, “That’s absolutely untrue, Niall. Are you quite finished?” 

Niall feels a volatile mix of anger and frustration bubble under his skin. He finally says, “Are you still _drunk?_ I wasn’t the one who said I’d been fond of you for ages. I wasn’t the one who said I remembered some fuckin’ song from four years ago. I didn’t kiss you first. You said that stuff. _You_ did that!”

The look Louis gives him makes him feel like the world’s gone frozen, like they’ve gone from Australia to Antarctica in the blink of an eye. Niall sighs and the world is heavy all of a sudden. His shoulders fall and he says, softer, “Look, maybe…maybe we should take a bit of time to ourselves.” 

Louis’s voice is icy cold when he says, “Yeah. Perhaps we should do that.”

Niall turns and walks back out of the water, grabs his shirt and heads back without looking back to see if Louis is following him. He’s not _angry_ , exactly, it’s just that Louis can be so stupid sometimes and he’s too smart to be _so_ stupid. He’s built up this bravado that’s endlessly frustrating, this self-confident exterior to hide his completely self-conscious interior. It’s absolutely maddening and Niall needs a break.

This trip was a terrible idea.

When he gets back to the tent, he curls up on top of the sleeping bags and tries to sleep but everything is too loud in his head. He must eventually doze off because he opens his eyes and the sun has gone down a bit; it’s a little darker and Louis is sitting on the sleeping bag beside him. His hair is damp and he’s wearing different clothes that smell like fresh cotton; he looks down and smiles a little sheepishly when Niall blinks his eyes open. “Rise and shine,” he says softly, but there’s a hitch to his voice and Niall can’t quite read his eyes. “D’you know that being upset with you is the worst feeling on earth?”

Niall smiles a little and pushes himself up on his elbows. “It was just a little tiff,” he says. “We’re good.”

“Okay,” Louis says, but he doesn’t sound like he believes it. Niall’s not sure he does, either. Louis holds up a paper bag and says, “I’ve brought some refreshments.”

They drink four of the beers right there at the tent and Niall is starting to feel buzzed when Louis says, “Go put on a nicer shirt so we can ring in the new year in _style_.” He says that, actually says _ring in the new year in style_ , and Niall leans close and pokes him in the forehead. “Are you a cyborg?” he whispers, narrowing his eyes. “Who fuckin’ talks like that?” 

Then Louis laughs that beautiful laugh and it makes Niall’s cheeks flush and his stomach goes all fluttery. He picks out a nicer shirt.

 

They end up back at the market and Niall realizes he’s really going to miss this place once they’ve gone back home. Louis has his pinky linked with Niall’s again and they walk slowly, drinking in the atmosphere, memorizing every detail. 

It’s completely buzzing with people. Niall finds the Swedish girl who’d drawn on his arm, and tells Louis he should get one, too. He sits down with her, Niall watching as she fits a swirling mess of music notes and treble clefs, sharps and flats that fill the spaces left blank on his right arm. She blows on his skin, too, and Louis shivers and laughs. “It’s lovely, it’s so brilliant. I love it,” he tells her and he’s so genuine, Niall can see he means it.

She ties a green bracelet around his wrist before she walks away to start on someone else, and Niall grins, holding up his own bracelet. “Look at that,” he says. “We're best friends now.”

Louis looks up at him and laughs softly, then looks back at his arm and lightly brushes his fingers over it. “Maybe we should get these for real. Commemorate our time down under.” He uses that awful accent again when he says _down under_. Niall laughs and says, “I’ll think about it.” He knows he probably won’t but maybe this time he will. Maybe this will be the one.

There’s a face painter a couple stalls down and they stop there next. Niall gets more stripes painted across his cheeks, this time white and gold and sparkling silver. Louis gets two hearts, gold and silver with glitter, and Niall laughs and makes Louis pose for a selfie. They press close together and Louis makes a kissy face, Niall laughing as he presses the button. “Ah, take another one,” Louis says. “I need a copy.”

Louis buys them each a beer and takes one of the joints out of his pocket, lights it, and hands it to Niall. Louis hooks his arm with Niall’s and says, “Y’know, I thought maybe we could’ve tried something a bit harder, but it’s kinda fun to remember everything, don’t you think so?”

Niall does think so.

They spend the evening wandering from one concert to another, catching bits and pieces of all different genres of music. Niall feels like they need to take everything in and he feels bad that they can’t watch everyone and hear every song and listen to every note. Vance Joy plays at sunset; Louis presses his hand flat to Niall’s back between his shoulder blades and the crowd sings, _we look at the faces on your bedroom wall, nobody’s perfect at all_ , and Niall leans back a little and wonders if that’s really true.

After the set’s over they stand there for a while, watching the crowd disperse from a completely different angle than Niall’s used to. It’s weird, he thinks, seeing the aftermath like this. “That was brilliant,” Louis finally says, and he looks at Niall. “Didn’t you think so?”

“Loved it, yeah,” Niall says, because he really did. “Reminds me of summer.”

They go to another show at a different stage and then they stick around for the DJ set up next. The clouds have come back and the air is cool, but the music is quick, happy dance music, and everyone around them is laughing. Louis grabs Niall’s hands and they dance as it starts to rain. Louis tilts his face up to the sky and when he looks back at Niall, the hearts on his cheek have turned to glitter tearstains but he’s laughing. Niall desperately wants to kiss him, but the moment is too stunning so he holds off.

The rain ends and then the set ends and they’re left breathless. Louis doesn’t let go of Niall’s hands, and they stand there for a while until Louis finally does let go of one of his hands, but keeps hold of the other. “Holy shit,” he says. “That was brilliant. That was absolutely _brilliant_.”

They walk down the road, hand in hand, talking about the next record, and Niall’s head is filled with new ideas and new sounds; he feels truly inspired and he wonders how much of that is the music and how much is the company. 

“Hey,” Louis says. They’ve come to a fork in the road and there’s a little tent set up in front of them, different types of sweets and colorful bottles lined up on a table. Louis drops Niall’s hand and Niall just stands in the middle of the road and waits. Louis comes back and he’s got a handful of sparklers and a little container filled with bright colored sweets. He sticks the sparklers in his back pocket and says, “Vodka gummy bears.”

Niall grins. “Holy shit, look at those colors.” Louis opens the package and holds it out to him, and Niall takes out a green one, which he’s delighted to find is lime. “Oh my god, fuckin’ heavenly.” They eat half of them before they even get to the next stage and Niall’s cheeks already feel warm. 

They finish the rest of the gummy bears during Glass Animals and then it starts to rain again. Louis leans close, a little too close, and his lips brush Niall’s ear when he says, “It’s nearly midnight, can we -” He puts his hand on the side of Niall’s neck and pulls him even closer. “D’you mind if we go?” 

Niall nods quickly and they don’t even wait for the end of the song, Louis just takes his hand again and leads him away from the stage. Niall wonders how Louis knows what time it is and then Louis says, “The guy in front of me had his phone, we’ve only got like, twenty minutes til the end.”

“Thank god for technology,” Niall says. “Where’re you taking me?”

Louis just smiles and sings, “What’re ya doin’ New Year’s, New Year’s Eve?” like that should answer all of Niall’s questions, and Niall laughs and pretends that it does.

Louis takes him to the beach and as they step on the sand, Niall says, “Shoulda brought some champagne.” 

“God, I know,” Louis says. “Next time.”

“Next time,” Niall says softly. There are more people down here tonight, but not too many that it’s crowded. Louis takes Niall’s hand and they walk for a bit, until it feels like they’re the only people left on earth.

They stand there for a while, silent; Louis is still holding his hand and Niall wonders what things will be like once they’ve gone back home. He takes a deep breath, fills his lungs full of salt air, and he doesn’t want to let it out. 

Louis clears his throat after a minute, and Niall exhales and looks over at him. Louis is looking out at the water and Niall squints at him; the clouds break long enough for the moonlight to catch the glitter on his cheek, and he feels like a dream that Niall’s not ready to wake up from just yet.

“Lou,” he says, ghost-soft, “what about…” He trails off because what about what? He’s got no idea how to finish the question so he just doesn’t. What about what?

“Y’know,” Louis says, and he looks at Niall. Niall takes another deep breath, holds it and waits; his vision starts to sparkle a bit near the edges before Louis continues. “I really fucked up. Earlier.”

Niall exhales, blinks quickly. “About the kissing,” he says, and it’s not meant as a question but Louis nods slowly anyway, looks back out at the ocean and says, “Mmhmm, yeah.”

There’s another long pause and then Louis says, “That day at boot camp, I remember thinking, like.” He pauses and frowns. “I dunno. Don’t you ever have those moments where suddenly you can see everything crystal clear for the very first time?”

Niall just nods. He doesn’t exactly trust his voice, but it doesn’t seem to make a difference because Louis nods back and says, so quietly, “I remember thinking, 'I want to know this person'. I didn’t even know you yet, but I wanted to know everything about you. D’you know how lucky we are, Niall?”

“Course I do,” Niall says. “Of course I know that.”

“No,” Louis says, shakes his head. “Not—how lucky we are. The four of us, the rest of us. Not, not you.”

Niall squints at him because he’s _sure_ Louis means something by that but he’s not quite sure _what_ he means. “Are you saying I’m the unlucky one?” he asks. “Have you had a premonition I should know about, then?”

Louis rolls his eyes and laughs a little. “Always a comedian,” he says fondly. His smile fades and his eyes go so sincere, so genuine, and Niall gets chills. “I just feel like we’ve all gotten so lucky to have found you,” Louis says carefully. He looks down at the sand and shakes his head. “I feel lucky to have found you.”

It’s not the first time Niall’s heard that, really. His mum and dad have told him that, loads of times, but he’s always figured it’s part of their job. He’s heard it from Gemma, from Doniya, from Caroline and Paul. He’s heard Harry say it on the phone to his mum and Liam’s said it before in an interview or two.

He’s heard it before, is the point, but somehow this time is completely and tremendously different because it’s coming from Louis, right from Louis, and Niall wishes he could freeze this moment for just a little while to let it all sink in.

“Louis,” Niall says.

“I don’t quite reckon it matters,” Louis says slowly, like he hasn’t quite figured it all out but he’s going to try. “I don’t think it matters who kissed who, yeah?”

“No,” Niall says, because he’d not really thought of it that way. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

“So long as, like…so long as it was something we both wanted.” He looks at Niall then, terribly guarded, and then he says, softer, “Which…I mean. We did?”

And then, somewhere behind them, fireworks go off. 

“I did,” Niall says. “Louis. I did.”

Louis watches over Niall’s shoulder for a second and his face goes bright with an explosion. He smiles a little and when he looks back at Niall his eyes are endless oceans of relief. “We’ve missed the countdown,” he whispers, and Niall laughs.

“This is important,” he says. “Be serious.”

“I’m being serious, Niall, we’ve missed the countdown.” Louis takes out a couple of the sparklers and he’s got the matches, too; he hands one of the sparklers to Niall and says, “D’you think we could go back in time, just for like, ten seconds?”

“Yeah,” Niall says. “I’d say that’s alright.”

Louis lights Niall’s sparkler first and then his own, and Niall watches as they crackle with golden sparks. Louis counts backwards from ten but he’s too slow, and Niall’s sparkler goes out just as he says, “Four.”

“Louis!” Niall shakes his head. “You’re too slow.”

Louis gives him another sparkler and says, “Okay, okay, let’s go back ten more seconds,” He lights this one too but then his own goes out.

“This is a comedy of errors,” Niall says solemnly.

Louis looks down at his sparkler. “We’re going to be stuck in 2014 forever,” he says.

“Here, get two more but don’t light ‘em yet,” Niall says, and Louis takes out two more, hands one to Niall. Niall takes the other one and holds them together. “Now. Light ‘em now.”

Louis does and they start in sync; they’re halfway burned down when Niall remembers to finish their countdown with, “Three, two, one.” When both of the sparklers go dark, Louis looks up and meets his eyes. “Happy New Year,” he says softly.

Niall doesn’t say anything because he just cannot find any more words. Instead, he drops his sparkler, grabs Louis’s face, and kisses him. Louis tastes sweet like sugar and he wraps his arms around Niall’s neck, cupping the back of his head and kissing back desperately. Time seems to stand still for ages before Niall pulls back. Louis bites his lip and pulls him close, hugs him tight. “You’re so special,” he whispers, right into Niall’s ear, and Niall shivers and really honestly believes it. “In that book, for your star,” Louis says, “my wish was that you’d find your heart.” He pulls back a little and studies Niall. “Have you found it, d’you think?” The way he says it is careful, like he’s afraid something will shatter if he speaks any louder.

“Yeah,” Niall says, smiling. “Think so. Spent all that time looking and here it is, right in front of my face.”

Louis’s smile gets bigger at that and he says, “Y’know, you really should get your eyes examined. Imagine all the things you’ve been missing.”

Niall steps closer and says, “Yeah, imagine that,” and kisses him again. Then, suddenly there are more fireworks going off behind them, like it’s some kind of grand romantic gesture in a Hollywood blockbuster. Niall turns and watches as they go off in the sky, big circles of red and blue and glittering gold. Louis steps up beside him and puts his arm around Niall’s shoulders, and they stand there and watch until the sky goes dark.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration for this fic comes from [this](http://textsfromlastnight.com/Text-Replies-13246.html); the Sugarscape/Yahoo tweets where Niall left 1D; and an email exchange with Cass where I said, "PLEASE TEACH ME ABOUT NEW YEAR'S IN AUSTRALIA" and she taught me all about [Falls Festival](http://lorne.fallsfestival.com.au/), upon which this music festival was loosely based.


End file.
